


Not a Joke

by percamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke Baby, Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3840844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/percamy/pseuds/percamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I saw this AU prompt on tumblr about Clarke going into labor on April 1st and calling Bellamy and him not believing her and hanging up. I loved the idea and decided to write my own take on it. Hope you like it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not a Joke

"Bellamy," her voice rang through the telephone line, sounding urgent in his ear. "You need to come to the hospital. I'm going into labor."  


Bellamy snorted. "Nice one, Princess. I'm not an idiot; I know what today is. The first of April. April fools day."  


"This isn't a freaking joke."  


"Mhmmm."  


"I. Am. Eight. Months. Pregnant." She ground out, clearly irritated. She was a good actor, Bellamy had to give her that. But that was the most obvious prank like, ever. Clarke, not finished, continued. "The odds of me having this baby today were not that small."  


"Look-- honey. I love you and all, but please, please, PLEASE think of something better to fool me with."  


He could tell she was about to retaliate- she was awful hung up on this joke, wasn't she?- but he cut her off, putting the crappy phone the ISD issued to every classroom back in its cradle. The phone promptly began ringing a few seconds after he'd hung up. A few of his students glanced up at him, watching him answer with a "Clarke. Seriously, Princess, I'm in the middle of class. Wait, give me a second."  


Clearing his throat, he redirected their attention with a "Guys. When you finish this, I've something fun planned for us to do." All the kids returned to their worksheets except for Veronica.  


"Are you talking to your wife, Mr. Blake?" She asked him, dreamily resting her head on her hand. The question spurred all the others attention.  


"Um...Yeah I am, actually. But class, come on, work."  


But it was too late. The class had already whirled into motion, whispering frantically. Bellamy wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure he heard a couple "Bellarke"'s and at least one "his wife is preggo!"  
"I want quiet. Right now!" Bellamy interrupted them, his authoritative voice putting a damper on the class's festivities. "Now, I want a quick answer, because believe it or not I do have to finish my phone call, but what the crud is Bellarke?"  
Skye raised her hand. After getting called on, she timidly answer. "A ship. You and your wife- You told us her name was Clarke, remember? Bell-Arke?"  


Bellamy shook his head slowly. "A ship?"  


"Oh, boy, this is going to take a while," Veronica announced un-shyly, opening her mouth to continue.  


Bellamy cut her off. (He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.) "As fascinating as I'm sure this seemingly lengthly conversation will be, I, as you and I both pointed out a second ago, am talking to my wife, and I need to wrap up that conversation before we can properly have this one." He paused, then continued by saying weakly, "So...kids... Worksheets?"  


Thankfully, all the kids turned back to their quiz questions, even Veronica.  


"Sorry babe. So, are we still pretending you're in labor?"  


"Dammit, Bell! I am in labor. If you want to witness your first child's birth and generally support your wife, who is about to be in excruciating pain, get your butt down to the hospital NOW." And with that, Clarke Blake, the eight-month pregnant woman, hung up.  


Bellamy was many things, but he wasn't stupid. He knew his wife- very well, thank you very much. He knew that she never cursed, hated cursing. He knew that when she did curse (once in a blue moon) she meant business. He also knew that when she got that certain tone in her voice, you couldn't contradict her and expect to walk away unharmed. That tone was reserved for her I'm-so-done-with-today-and-you-but-I-have-to-get-this-done-so-just-listen-up-and-STOP-TALKING moods, complete with facial expressions and hand gestures.  


Bellamy also knew if he didn't 'get his butt down to the hospital NOW,' as his lovely wife had put it, he would be very sorry.  


"Class. I have to go- like now. I'll get Ms. Monroe to half-sub while she teaches her own class until the office can arrange a real sub. Bye kids have a nice weekend!" And with that, Bellamy was out the door.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


After a explicitly long time going over exactly why he had to leave campus, the school secretary finally let him go. The traffic seemed to take forever, despite the hospital being only about three miles away.  


But then, finally, he was there and the hospital secretary was asking him why and making him explain who his wife was and all these tiny details that mattered but just not to him at that particular moment and Bellamy was wondering why all secretary's were such downers when finally she gave him a room number and pointed him in the right direction.  


He ran, listening to her feeble "Sir, no running in this facility," but then again not listening, so focused on getting to her, his best friend, his wife, his princess, his Clarke.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


When his pounding feet reached her at last, she smiled weakly.  


"You came," she said almost unbelieving, and Bellamy mentally kicked himself, for not believing her, for not being with her in her biggest moment of weakness, for being an idiot.  


"Oh my God Clarke, I'm so sorry Princess, I really am. I just thought..." He trailed off unsure how to voice his apology without sounding like one of those words that had become taboo ever since he had started dating Clarke.  


"No, Bellamy, it's okay. The contractions are still pretty far apart- we have multiple hours left to go. You haven't missed anything."  


"Clarke. I wasn't here when you needed me to be. I HUNG up on you, for... pete's sake."  


"It. is. okay. When we think back on this day, when we have our lovely baby in our arms, we might laugh at this, but it won't be the biggest thing we'll remember. Now calm down."  


Her words, as always, had a soothing effect on Bellamy, allowing him to realize that everything she said was true. Well, maybe it wasn't completely okay now, but it would be as soon as he had bigger things to do. Like help his wife through the pain of birthing. Or like taking care of a baby. His baby, he realized with a start.  


"Okay," Bellamy spoke, focusing in the more important things: Clarke and their unborn-but-very-close-to-being baby. "Are you okay? Do you need water? Me to hold your hand? Me to talk to you?" He had more suggestions of how he could make himself useful, but stopped when he saw Clarke was grinning at him.  


Sheepishly he returned the smile, kissing her forehead and murmuring "I just want you to be okay," against her skin.  


"Now that you're here, everything is perfect. Best case scenario is now here: I don't have to stress about you not being here, and I can truly relax." Clarke frowned. "Well, as much as I can while I push a human being out of a tiny hole on my body."  


Feeling guilty at Clarke's unaware jab, Bellamy hung his head, then picked it up to ask "Did you call Abby? O? Raven? Jasper and Monty?"  


Clarke nodded. "Like I said, everything is taken care of. Everything is exactly how it should be."  
Bellamy nodded back, feeling himself begin to float in a spell of calm, as if he were surrounded by clouds.  


Everything is how it should be.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


Bellamy sure didn't feel that way fourteen hours later. Clarke had a death-grip on his hand, her's all sweaty. But that part of his discomfort was so minuscule it didn't even exist. Seeing Clarke, in pain like that, was one of the worst things he'd ever laid eyes on.  


"You only have a few contractions left to go- soon you'll be ready to push," Clarke's nurse told her.  


"You think I don't know that? I'm a freaking doctor! I can feel it! For...pete's sake!"  


Bellamy smiled at Clarke's use of his words.  


She, somehow sensing this, turned to face him. "Don't go smiling on me now, Blake. We still have ten minutes until this baby is out in our arms. Right now, it's still inside of me."  


"I know," he tried to tell her, tried to reassure her, bit she just shook her head.  


"Well, nine minutes and thirty seconds," Clarke corrected herself.  


Bellamy gulped. In less than ten minutes, he would be a real honest-to-God parent. Not like when he raised Octavia, when he was a brotherly-fatherly figure, but a real freaking father.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


Nine minutes and fifteen seconds later, Bellamy was praying to God that the rest of the birthing was harmless. Why had he even impregnated Clarke? She had already gone through so much pain, what with her father and best friend dying. Clarke was strong, but Bellamy knew for a fact that a person only withheld so much pain before they broke.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


Thirty seconds later, Bellamy watched Clarke's face mirror his as it broke out into a ear-to-ear grin when they heard the cries of their healthy baby girl. Bellamy remembered, now that her pain was over and he could properly think, why they had wanted a baby. Why he had impregnated Clarke.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


As he was asked to cut the umbilical cord, Bellamy remembered what it was like to love something, in a fatherly way, with his whole heart.  


\---•---•---•---•---  


And when he held their beautiful baby girl securely in his arms, cooing to her softly as he passed her to Clarke, he felt tears welling in his eyes, and remembered what it felt like to be truly joyful.  
"We made her, Clarke, the two of us." He paused thrown off guard by the baby's lack of title. "We need a name for her, though."  


"I was thinking, maybe Aurora?" Clarke replied, lifting her eyes from their baby for the first time to carefully gauge his expression. "After your mother," she specified, although she didn't need to.  


Bellamy, closing his eyes, felt the tears hiding behind his eyelids streak out, running down his face. "Thank you," he whispered to her, his tone full of gratitude. "Clarke, that means the world to me. But that's sort of a contradicting statement because you and Aurora are my world."  


\---•---•---•---•---

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a way to cope with stress and my problems but I thought it turned alright. Please leave feedback and I hope you liked it!


End file.
